


Inadequate

by Zphal



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zphal/pseuds/Zphal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce sometimes makes Tony feel inadequate.  Okay, maybe a lot of times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inadequate

Bruce Banner was everything he wasn't.

Sure, he had to give himself a little credit. He had a GPA over 4.0, was enrolled in every advanced placement the school had to offer, and he had a college graduate level understanding of electrical engineering. His aptitude tests had been off-the-chart since elementary school. He'd maxed the score for the PSAT. But he was disorganized. Often tardy. Saved all his projects, essays, homework, studying for the night before. He worked only when he had to, not when he ought to. All the genius without any of the motivation.

Bruce, by comparision, was orderly, focused, efficient. He worked hard, he worked diligently, his work was flawless and nothing ever phased him.

He was the kind of son his father Howard Stark actually wanted.

"The next debate topic is the ethicality of the production of nuclear deterrents. Elizabeth Ross, you will be paired with Justin Hammer to present the pros. Bruce Banner, you will be paired with Anthony Stark to present the cons."

Tony's head jolted up from the desk where it had been ducked beneath his arms. Too little sleep last night. Stayed up too late on piecing together a haphazard report for AP English. Not enough coffee to compensate. He resisted rubbing his tired, likely bloodshot eyes, instead flashing them over to Bruce, who merely noted this fact with a click of his tongue and a scribble of his pencil on the spiral notebook open in front of him. Tony felt a stomach-clenching wave of anxiety. Sure, together they were bound to win, especially against any team with Justin Hammer in it-- that kid was a joke. He wasn't worried about that.

What he was worried about was what Bruce would think of him.

As soon as the teacher had paired everyone and supplied their debate topics, class was dismissed. Tony got partway down the hall before a hand placed itself in the crook his elbow. Bruce. His eyes widened. "Uh… hey there, Bruce. What's up?"

The bespectacled boy didn't waste much time on the exchange of greetings. "Hey. We should meet in the library after school today to get started on research for our debate topic."

"Today? Really?" Tony got out before thinking better of it, "I mean, the debate's not for two weeks. We've got plenty of time."

Bruce blinked once, blankly.

"Right. Well, what I _meant_ to say," Tony corrected quickly, "is yeah. Yeah, I'll see you then."

"You're not going to be late, are you?" Bruce said emotionlessly, almost as if he were stating a fact out of a textbook rather than asking a question.

"You kiddin'? Of course not," Tony answered pridefully to mask the lingering self-consciousness in the back of his mind. Bruce was aware of his bad habits. Everyone was. Bruce nodded and continued on his way.

He met Bruce after school at the library. He'd been ten minutes late. This didn't seem to surprise or trouble Bruce, whose nose was already buried in a book with five more he'd picked off the shelves beside him. He'd offered the pile to Tony by way of silently pushing them his way across the table. After fifteen minutes of combing through the book for relevant information, Tony couldn't help asking Bruce what he would have done if he hadn't shown up. Bruce's answer was succinct. "I would have researched by myself." and that had silenced Tony for another good fifteen minutes of semi-productivity. "But you would have been mad if I hadn't, right?"

Bruce looked up this time, pushing up those dorky-on-anyone-else-but-somehow-completely-natural-on-Banner glasses. "I don't know. You showed up."

"Right…" Tony pretended to distract himself in flipping several pages.

"That's probably enough for today," Bruce said ten or so minutes later, the closing of his book echoing the finality. "What did you find?" he asked Tony, and it was the first thing he'd said the carried a note of curious enthusiasm. They exchanged notebooks. Tony felt a surge of inadequacy upon viewing the neat, scrupulous notes of his debate partner. He winced as he watched Bruce turn his notebook about in his hands to examine the errant additions crammed sloppily into the margins where they didn't fit in the college-ruled lines. Anyone else might've been impressed with his work, but Bruce was bound to be the opposite. Tony waited for the stinging remark that was certain to follow. "These are good points," Bruce nodded satisfactorily, "They'll need better source documentation, but they're great support for our side."

And then something even more incredible happened. Bruce looked up at him and _smiled_.

They'd agreed to meet again tomorrow at the same time. Tony showed up on-time. He tried to be more meticulous. Tried to tidy his note-making, and his backpack which was a very literal mess of old candy bar wrappers and coffee cup sleeves and bent paperclips and broken pencils and wadded notepaper and old report cards his old man didn't care to look at all the As on. He even took initiative and found more source material by hitting up the computer and doing several internet searches for information the library didn't contain. Each word of appreciation and commendation from Bruce made his heart soar. They exchanged their findings, discussed them, pointed out flaws, strengthened their arguments based on those flaws, did mock debates between just the two of them.

This went on for a week. Surely they were experts on the subject by now, Tony thought to himself as he wet his thumb to turn a page. They could've won with the first couple days worth of research alone. Anything else at this point was superfluous. Not that he was complaining about the excuse to hang out with the other high schooler. In fact, Bruce was on his mind more than he should have been for reasons he shouldn't have been. "Hey, after this--" Tony began and abruptly stopped.

Bruce's head lifted after he'd finished whatever paragraph he was reading. "What's that?"

"Nothing," Tony responded automatically. "Just… I was thinking-- wondering-- Do you… You wanna do something after this?"

The boy looked befuddled. "What would we do?"

Tony shifted around in his seat. "You know, like something fun. We've been working hard; we deserve a break, don't'cha think?"

"You want to take a break?" Bruce asked, seeming to miss the point.

"No. Yes," Tony responded, and okay, that was so not a helpful answer, he was mentally kicking himself now, "I think _we_ should take a break. Both of us."

Bruce's answer was cautious. "Alright."

"Sweet," Tony said in a level-tone that didn't reveal the pounding of his heart.

They ended up at his place in front of the 90" inch plasma TV, marathoning old science fiction movies late into the evening, laughing at the horrible effects and picking apart the scientific inaccuracies. Tony had ordered a pizza and a two-liter of Sprite; they'd consumed it right there out of the box on the coffee table and drunk out of red Solo cups. Once or twice he'd been tempted to ask Bruce if he needed to be getting back, but thought better of it, the two of them having too much fun for him to want it to end. And Bruce must've felt the same he concluded. At three AM he noticed Bruce had fallen asleep beside him on the couch. He almost elbowed him awake but thought better of that too, instead just turning off the TV and settling in to go to sleep himself, a smile on his face because today had definitely been the best day ever.

They went to school together the next morning, of course. Bruce normally took the bus to and from school, but Tony had driven him to his place for the marathon. Before the bell for first period had even rung, Bruce was headed for his first class. Tony grabbed his arm. "Hey. I had fun last night," he said, pausing long enough Bruce could have responded, but didn't, "Did you?"

"Yeah. It was a lot of fun, Tony," Bruce said, and it would have sounded flat and unconvincing had it been coming from anyone else. "Thanks."

"It's cool," Tony put on a chill demeanor, "You can thank me by coming over again some time."

Bruce smiled again and Tony would've sworn time stopped if it weren't for the bell sounding through the hall.

He'd expected Bruce to pick up on that and express an interest in hanging at his place again at some point. Three days later Tony found the two of them five minutes from calling it quits at the library and Bruce hadn't so much as mentioned it. Tony wondered if he'd done something wrong. If he'd put Bruce off somehow. His stomach was in knots and he'd barely made a dent in scanning the book he was holding. Again, not that it mattered. "Hey Bruce?" he got the other teenager's attention, "Sorry if asking this… um, yeah… but I was wondering. Did you want to uh, come over? Tonight? Maybe?"

"I can't," Bruce's voice was even more monotone than usual, Tony noticed.

"Oh." Tony blinked, feeling somehow both less and more disappointed. "Why's that?"

Bruce frowned. He was quiet. "My dad got mad at me."

"You got in trouble?" Tony asked.

"Yeah," Bruce pulled his book back up to his nose.

Tony scratched his head. "Okay. Well, I could come over to your place. I won't get in trouble."

Bruce gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry. That's… not going to work either."

Tony wasn't done coming up with ideas. "Well maybe we could go to the arcade in the mall or hit up the theatre or--"

"I _can't_ , okay??" Bruce slammed his book shut. It was the first time his voice had ever had firmness to it. Tony flinched. The other boy stood and collected his things and left without another word.

"Okay…" Tony whispered to himself.

He didn't bother to go to school the next day. He spent the entire day in his room, mostly fucking off playing guitar or videogames. His dad had threatened to cut off his allowance, but Tony didn't really care at the moment. He glanced at his clock. Right about now he should've been meeting Bruce at the library to finalize everything they'd researched in preparation for the debate tomorrow. Bruce was probably wondering where he was. Or not. Didn't matter. Maybe Bruce was mad. He'd said he didn't know if he'd be mad if he hadn't shown up because he'd shown up. But this time he hadn't shown up so maybe he'd be mad. Tony hoped he was mad. Maybe he wouldn't go to school tomorrow either. Bruce could do the debate on his own. Bruce would probably still win on his own. He didn't need Tony's help; he never had.

His sulking was interrupted by the doorbell downstairs. At first he figured he'd let his dad answer it, but then he remembered his old man had gone down to the basement to do some experiments and wouldn't allow himself to be interrupted. Grumbling, Tony proceeded down the stairs and pulled open the front door. He gaped at the boy on the stoop. "Bruce? How did you get here?"

"Betty drove me," the teenager answered impassively.

Tony folded his arms. "Yeah, well, what do you want?"

"Why weren't you at school today?" Bruce asked and Tony thought that was a funny way of responding since it didn't really answer the question he'd asked.

"I didn't feel like going, so I didn't," Tony shrugged as if that were all there was to it. There was an extended stretch of silence.

"I'm sorry I made you mad," Bruce said.

Tony spluttered. "What? Who said anything about me being mad? I didn't say that."

"I assumed you were because I said I couldn't come over," Bruce explained calmly.

"Yeah well," Tony pursed his lips, "I was kind of mad about that I guess." He tapped his foot and endeavored to look anywhere but the boy standing on his front porch. "Aren't you gonna be in trouble for being here now?"

"Probably." It was Bruce's turn to shrug and Tony felt one of his eyebrows lift.

"But you're here anyway."

"Yeah," Bruce answered.

"Why?"

Bruce held for just a beat. "I wanted to make sure you were going to come to school tomorrow."

Tony fumed; his hand strangled the door knob. "That's it? That's the only reason you're here. To make sure I come to school tomorrow?"

"No."

"Then what? What else are you here for??" Tony demanded. Bruce took two steps forward and cupped his hands on his face, kissing him. Tony's mouth sort of fell open against the other's boys lips before he got them to work long enough to catch the tail end of that affectionate gesture before Bruce pulled back. Tony blinked several times in stupefaction. "You're… you're not supposed to like me," he said.

Bruce eyed him questioningly. "Why is that?"

"Because… because…" Tony didn't get off to a good start explaining his reasoning, "Well because you're like… way better than me. In like, every way. I can barely get my work done on time. I'm cluttered and scatter-brained. The only reason I did any work for this debate thing before today was cuz you invited me that first day and kept inviting me and I wanted to see you and…" he forced his mouth to stop.

Bruce looked like he would have listened with unending patience if Tony had decided to keep talking. "You're really smart, Tony. Who cares about any of that other stuff?"

Tony's mouth was hanging open in an unbecoming fashion. "Well, I… I figured… I figured you would."

The other boy seemed to genuinely take the time to consider this. He shook his head. "I don't," he concluded. "So, are you going to come to school tomorrow?" he asked.

Tony's mouth made a _pssh_ noise, leaning onto the doorframe. "You kiddin'? Of course," he said with perfect confidence. "We gotta be there to kick ass."

And again Bruce's lips pulled up in that perfect smile.


End file.
